


Intersections

by dustbunnyprophet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Mild Language, Moral Ambiguity, Next Generation, Smoking, sensitive topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:05:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustbunnyprophet/pseuds/dustbunnyprophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met in the juxtaposition of the unlikely. Her and him, two people, not two halves waiting to be brought together. They intersected in their differences, opposed in their similarities, shaping something beautiful from a paradox. Him and her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intersections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually an old fic I had originally posted on ff.net and harrypotterfanfiction.com, and have finally resumed writing (after waaay too long *smiles awkwardly*). Dialogues have been edited but the rest is unchanged.  
> Chapter 2 will be edited and posted asap. Enjoy! :)

 

 

 

The rickety clock on the wall chimed ten times, the sound muffled by the dull buzzing of voices as the usual Saturday-night crowd started to gather in the Leaky Cauldron, filling the pub. Faintly, in the background, Celestina Warbeck’s voice moaned an old song on the Wireless. Lucy sighed into her glass of Firewhiskey, absently putting the half-empty tumbler onto the table. Her fingers trailed from the moist surface of the glass down to the table, curling around her package of fags. A moment later she flicked her wand to light one. She inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill her lungs and then, with a motion born from habit, she exhaled it slowly through her pursed lips, watching the white trail coil from her mouth and dilate into nothingness.

She watched dazedly the patrons, who sat around the worn tables and drank their liquor, surrounded by many others who stood, their bodies huddled close, talking, gesticulating. She could hear the clinking of bottles and glasses, weaving a pattern of noise with the laughter and voices that was broken only occasionally by the high-pitched cackle of a witch, coming somewhere near the back of the room. She numbly waited for the hours to pass. It was far too early to return to her small attic apartment. She inhaled another lungful of smoke. There would be only silence there, disrupted only by the wailing meowing sound of her ginger cat. And silence was something Lucy had never gotten used to. Its sticky heaviness felt wrong. The smoke curled out of her mouth and she watched it grow thinner, until nothing remained of it but stale air. After three years of living on her own she still missed the slight bubbling of life of her home. Not that she missed her family. In fact, she saw them more than she would like to. It was the almost tangible absence of other people that bothered her, the missing sounds of another person’s breathing, moving, pacing. So Lucy came to the Leaky Cauldron. She took another sip of Firewhiskey. For at least four nights a week, she would be there, mostly sipping lukewarm tea while she read a Muggle novel or another. The background noise of glasses clattering and bouts of laughter was all Lucy needed. However, on occasion, like tonight, she would enjoy the company of one Old Ogden’s. Not so oddly, more often than not these occasions matched her family dinners. She pursed her lips in displeasure.

Tonight was no exception. She had apparated from her parents’ cottage directly to the Leaky Cauldron greeting the waitress and ordering a Firewhiskey in a sole breath. The way she had gone, so far, tonight was going to prove once again her choice of residence had been a wise one, she mused. She lived only a short stroll away from the Leaky Cauldron, on Diagon Alley’s corner with Knockturn Alley, and even if the rent was high and her apartment shabby, there was the upside of never having to apparate home when intoxicated. A wry smile curled Lucy’s lips and she lifted her glass once again to take another sip, feeling the tell-tale tingle of slight inebriation wash over her.

 

Teddy pushed the heavy door open and entered the Leaky Cauldron, shoving his way through the amassed crowd of wizards and witches, arms and elbows flailing around in gesticulation. He tried with all his might to make a beeline towards the counter. He needed, no, ached for a drink. His mind refused to linger on the reason why, a violent sense of resignation mingling with long brewed bitterness. He was tired of all this.

Teddy managed to reach the battered-looking counter pushing his right shoulder between a pair of visibly drunken wizards. After a minute of irritated waving the bartender seemed to notice him and moved to the spot Teddy had managed to occupy. He shouted his order and the balding wizard proceeded to pour a generous amount of Firewhiskey into a glass. Teddy watched the amber liquid fill the glass with anticipation. Tearing his eyes from the glass he reached a hand into his pocket and moments later coins clinked on the wooden counter, quickly gathered by the bartender’s hairy hand.

The drink burned its trail down his throat as he gulped it down, putting down the empty glass with a thud. Scenes from less than an hour prior flooded his mind. Vic’s hair all askew as she shouted at him, her eyes glinting dangerously. He had watched in mild fascination her mouth move, not really listening to the words she spoke. It was an accustomed ritual of late. Only this time Teddy had lacked the patience to endure it to its predictable end. No, he had taken his jacket from the peg it hung on and exited their apartment without uttering a single word. Feeling his bile rise, he ordered another Firewhiskey. He felt overwhelmed.

His fingers closed around the tumbler and Teddy turned around. He scanned the pub with his eyes, wondering if there was even the slimmest chance of finding himself a seat. He somehow had the feeling this was going to be a long night and he didn’t fancy spending it standing, squashed between the pair of portly wizards who were currently engaging their neighbours with slurred accounts of their younger days. But his search seemed fruitless. All the tables were taken, brimming with people. In fact most of the patrons, Teddy noticed, had resorted to standing around in small groups, chatting and drinking. He grimaced and took another sip from his glass. He had almost given up when his eye caught a familiar looking ginger head.

In a dim corner of the pub Lucy, Vic’s cousin was sitting alone, nursing a glass of what seemed to be Firewhiskey. There was an absent expression on her face, her eyelids half-closed and her chin-length ginger hair falling on her face. Without really considering, he started pushing his way to her table.

 

“Lucy Weasley?” a voice startled her from her numb observation of the dirty ashtray before her. She turned her head at its source, staring into the brown eyes of Teddy Lupin.

“Teddy.” she replied in idle surprise, watching the tall wizard stand by her table, his shaggy brow hair sticking handsomely in every direction. Her vision swam slightly as she eyed him, not exactly sure of what her reaction should be. He still stood, patiently waiting. She frowned, casting her eyes down on her glass. What should she do? He wasn’t really family and he wasn’t a friend, so what did it make him? Her frown deepened. Should she invite him to sit or simply greet and inquire on her cousin’s well being? Her mind was slightly fuzzy and her thoughts started to run in circles. Did she want company in the first place? Why did he have to come here and disrupt her perfectly conceived night of lone sulking?

The stream of questions got interrupted by the screeching of the chair to her right and her head snapped up, watching him as he sat himself down near her.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked her tentatively, his eyes apologetic and trailed “ I saw you sitting alone, so..”

“Nah.” she replied with a drawl “Makes no difference.” the words leaving her mouth on their own accord. Her own honesty startled her. She was quite certain her comment would qualify as impolite. Molly surely would never say something like that. Though, coming to think of it, Molly would never be sitting alone in the Leaky Cauldron drinking her third Firewhiskey in a row...

She was staring into thin air, lost in her thoughts. Teddy watched her as she absent-mindedly lit a cigarette, a small cloud of smoke growing around her like a halo of sorts. He had to admit it had been quite bold to impose his presence like this. He didn’t really know her. She was a couple of years younger than him and seldom came to the family gatherings. If he had to be honest with himself, he truly didn’t know anything about her, other than her being the oldest child of Percy and Audrey Weasley. He sat, silent, for a few seemingly endless moments, watching her ignore his presence altogether.

“So, Lucy, what are you doing here all by yourself?” he inquired, sipping from his glass. She was still gazing into nothing and he wondered if she had even heard his question. Maybe he shouldn’t have bothered her. Maybe Lucy wanted to be left alone. He considered leaving her to her own devices, when her voice snapped him from his musings.

“Trying not to go gentle into that good night.” she replied in a dreamy voice, then blinking twice she looked at him and said “I needed a drink. You?”

“Likewise” he replied tentatively, lifting his glass as proof of his statement. He should have asked her how she was, lulled them into small talk, he knew he should have, but instead he said “Had another fight with Vic.”

It was wrong, he was sure of it, to talk about this with a girl he barely knew and who was his girlfriend’s cousin to boot, but he was tired of pretending everything was fine-just-fine.

She didn’t reply and Teddy continued, unable to stop the words from forming. In a way he didn’t really care if she listened to him, he simply had to speak it out loud.

“It was cutlery tonight. Apparently we do not own the proper cutlery to eat fish.” his own voice sounded laced with bitterness and scorn “The way she puts it, the Wizarding World is on the verge of collapse because of it.”

A short humourless laughter escaped his lips. He felt the months of pent up frustration taking their toll . He wished he could spill all that weighted on his chest, to his friends, to his family, but he couldn’t. No one would understand him, no one would refrain from judging him. And, what lay at the very bottom of the problem was that no one of them was _here_ now.

Vic’s cousin was still silent. The, suddenly she turned her head to him, looking straight into his eyes for an endlessly long moment. Her brown eyes were unreadable, but he was relieved not to see reproach in them. She blinked slowly, then she averted her gaze, inhaling another lungful of smoke.

“You have been dating for ages, haven’t you?” she asked him, at last, flicking her cigarette on the ashtray while she exhaled another cloud of white smoke. Her voice was calm, aloof, and Teddy felt encouraged to keep speaking.

“Six years.” he answered “Though, four years of which had been on long distance, between her 7th year at Hogwarts and her Curse-breaker training in South America”

“So it makes two years of solid relationship. And I believe everyone in the family is already planning your wedding, right?” her fringe fell into her eyes and she removed it with the back of her hand, nearly singing it with her cigarette. He eyed her silently for a moment. How could he answer that question without telling _all_ that troubled him? He gulped down his Firewhiskey and closed his eyes while he savoured the stinging sensation in his throat.

“Yeah. I just, I don’t know, we fight too much.” he said simply, stupidly even, opening his eyes. How could he explain what thoughts rolled and coiled in his mind of late? How could he speak out how he sometimes wondered what he was doing? He dropped his gaze, staring at his hands. How could he put into words the bitter-sweet feeling thinking about her evoked? He felt the knotting of his stomach, the biting sensation that accompanied these thoughts, make itself known. It felt so akin to guilt, it made him wonder. And always hesitate.For so long she had been his by his side, how could he give up so easily? And yet he knew with unwavering certainty, he was not happy. Nor was Victoire. He gazed at the empty bottom of his glass morosely.

“I would give you some advice,” Lucy interrupted his thoughts “but when it comes to relationships I’m the wrong person to ask. I'm not exactly girlfriend material.” she told him with a small disenchanted smile.

“Should ask my sister dearest. She’s the keeper sort.” she added with a snicker. Teddy felt flabbergasted for a moment, then the pun hit him and he let out a strangled laugh. Molly was engaged to Bobby Moran, Keeper on the Falmouth Falcons team. He continued chortling. Keeper sort indeed. She joined him. Her laughter had a slightly shrill quality to it and Teddy liked it. It was good to laugh. He felt the tight knot that was permanently lodged in his stomach ease. He felt the warmth of his growing tipsiness spread through his body.

She made him laugh. It was good, to make people laugh, she though cocking her head, she did it so seldom. Lucy glanced to her right, taking in the large grin that was plastered on his face. Small wrinkles formed on the corner of his eyes while he laughed and his whole face flushed in mirth. Cheerfulness fitted him, she observed. There was just something about his mood-changing features that made her think his face was made for laughter and smiles, not brooding. But his - now amber-coloured - eyes, despite the amused glint still held a tinge of troubled sadness.

His laughter had died away and he gazed longingly at his empty tumbler of Firewhiskey. She glanced towards the table where her glass stood, empty as well.

“Want another?” she asked pointing at the glass he cradled in his hand. He nodded, with a brief curling of his lips and she beckoned a waitress raising two fingers and mouthing the word ‘Firewhiskey’. Shortly after they were drinking again, Teddy’s tongue loosening as he started to talk about her cousin. And Lucy listened to him, frowning as he spoke, telling her about her cousin’s antics, about their relationship, about his doubts. Every now and then his eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite identify. He told her how tiresome it was to return from a hard day of working at the Auror Department only to wonder which small thing would tip her cousin off. The more he spoke, the more he seemed to relax and Lucy listened patiently, drinking, smoking and ordering another round when their glasses were once again empty. And, shortly afterwards, another one.

“You know, the worst thing is everyone’s expectations.” he said hanging his head and shaking it lightly “The whole family expect us to marry, so I feel like I’m betraying them, their trust, by thinking about this.”

“And that’s were you and I alike.” she mumbled, mostly to herself, but loud enough to make Teddy stop and look at her quizzically. She continued, her eyes fixed on the filthy chandelier that hung above them “I’m a failure, you know. I’m not a brilliant whatever, Healer, Quidditch Player, Minister of Magic. I’m not married, nor engaged and have no children. I never made Prefect nor Head Girl, in fact my grades at school were downright average if not abysmal in some subjects. I live in a shabby little attic, my bedroom being in Diagon Alley and my kitchen in Knockturn Alley. I work as a clerk in the Apothecary, being that I’m not qualified enough to brew any potion... Bottom line is, I’m a disappointment to the whole family _and_ I’m being constantly reminded of that.”

Having finished her tirade Lucy lit up another cigarette and downed her drink. So much for taking her mind off her family.

“Why don’t you do something about it?” he asked her, leaning an elbow on the table. He looked genuinely interested and for the first time in many years she did not dub the question as rhetorical or accusing. She looked at him sharply and squared her shoulders.

“Because I don’t want to.” she said firmly “I like my life, thank you very much, the way it is. It’s everyone else who’s got a problem with it.”

“But it sounds like you do.” he countered calmly “You don’t seem happy.”

“That’s because everyone believes I should be something more!” she told him, her nostrils flaring “I’m not. I’m average and I like it that way. Now if everyone would do me a favour and just shove it!” she finished with vehemence. She knew it was pointless to get herself so worked up, but after years and years of being looked down, she had enough of it. She lit another cigarette with irritation.

“I’m sorry.” he said simply, and by his expression she knew he meant it. “Let’s get another Firewhiskey, shall we.”

He made to lift his hand, but she caught it in mid-air.

“No. I have a better idea.” she said, still holding his forearm with her thin fingers. “Ever had Goblin Gin?”

He shook his head in reply. Lucy pushed her chair back and, grabbing her purse, stood up. A sly grin had formed on her lips and her eyes glinted.

“Let’s go then. I know a place they serve it.”

 

She was already making her way out through the throng of people and Teddy struggled to follow her. He hadn’t realised just how much he had drunk until he had stood up. For a few moments the Leaky Cauldron spun around him and he gripped tightly the back of a chair. When his balance had returned to its normal state he unclasped his fingers and blinking twice to clear his vision, started to walk in the direction Lucy had disappeared. His feet moved on their own accord. His coordination was not at his best, but he managed to catch up with her, just as she crossed the back door. The cold air sobered him somewhat. He watched her as she fumbled with the bricks on the wall. She must be as tipsy as he was. On the third attempt she managed to get the combination right and the bricks started to move until a gaping of hole of darkness formed and they entered an eerily desert Diagon Alley.

They passed closed shop after closed shop, walking in perfect silence, their footsteps on the cobble path the only sound filling the night. His vision was clearer now and he felt more connected to the rest of his body than he had felt only minutes before. He glanced at his companion. She was walking beside him, swaying almost imperceptibly every now and then, but still soberly enough she could have fooled him if he hadn’t seen her drink at least as many Firewhiskeys as he had drunk himself. She was something, he thought, something entirely different from any girl or woman he had met so far.

Lucy’s fiery hair bobbed as she walked and he watched it catch the faint light of the lampposts they passed by. Obviously sensing his lingering gaze, she fastened her eyes on him, arching slightly an eyebrow. Teddy looked at her silently for another moment, both of them still strolling down Diagon Alley. He should say something. But he had spoken so much tonight, he didn’t know what to say any more. She was still looking at him and had slowed down her pace.

“What is it Teddy?” she asked him, cocking her head slightly. Yeah, what is it Teddy? He wondered as well. But he couldn’t exactly tell her that, now could he? He needed a quick save. Then he remembered something, something he had not lingered upon, too engrossed in his troubles.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked. She nodded, her eyebrows pulling together in a light frown “Before, when I asked you what you were doing you told me you were trying not to go gentle into that good night. Why did you say that?”

Her frown vanished immediately and her lips pulled into a smile. She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear before answering.

“It’s a line from a poem.” she said, still smiling “It by this Muggle poet, Dylan Thomas. Ever heard of him?” Her brown eyes sparkled and a softness he had not witnessed before came over her features. He blinked, remembering she had asked him a question.

“Can’t say I have.” he replied “Never read much of Muggle literature, I’m afraid.” her face fell and a shadow of disappointment darkened her freckled face. Teddy surprisingly found himself feeling quite bothered by it. So he added apologetically “I guess I’ve been missing a lot.”

“You have no idea!” she exclaimed, her expression lightening once again. Her hands flailed in enthusiasm as she spoke “We might be able to do magic, but literature... Trust me when I say Muggles kick our arses in that department. It's like they are able to grasp aspects of life that elude us. I guess it's magic, we're so stuck up in in we don't think these things are important. But they are.”

Her voice was thick with a passion that seemed so at odds with the aloof, if not morose way she had seemed to approach every other subject of conversation so far. Not that he had spanned many subjects, his mind interjected with scorn. Maybe if he hadn’t been boring her eyeballs out with his pathetic heartache, or lack thereof, she would have showed more interest. Maybe they could have talked about things she enjoyed. And judging by the way her eyes shone when she spoke, she truly loved Muggle literature. Teddy didn’t wish her to stop talking, it was almost entrancing to hear her speak about it. So he asked

“Like what?” she bit her lip for a moment, sticking her hands in her pockets, lost in thought. They were still walking, albeit slowly down the empty alley.

“Like the small things, you know.” she said at last, looking straight ahead into darkness “I always loved how Muggles can amazed by the silliest of things, like flowers or a sceneries.” she drawled, looking around herself for something. Then abruptly she stopped under a lamppost “Um, take this lamppost for instance” she turned her head to him “What do you see?”

“A... a lamppost, like you said?” she looked almost expectantly at him, her brown eyes locked with his “It provides lighting.” he added and Lucy gave him an encouraging nod, urging him to say more. Teddy struggled to think outside the box, to say something meaningful. “It guides our path?”

He felt so lame in comparison to her. How could anyone think this girl was average?

“Yes, it does” she said with a smile “But it also makes shadows.” she added thoughtfully, then trailed with a dreamy gaze

“It marks the safe and the unsafe, the known from the unknown. And makes it scarier.” she said pensively “Ever noticed how the night is quiet when you walk in the dark but it gets eerie when there's a small light on?”

Her eyes had turned glassy. She was standing under the lamppost, its yellow light casting shadows on her pale, freckled face, setting her hair aflame. She seemed almost otherworldly, but not in the more-than-human way Vicky did with her Veela ancestry. No, Lucy was something else entirely, he thought again, so very common and so very special at the same time, with her ginger halo of hair and her shimmering eyes gazing somewhere beyond the empty street. Teddy felt an odd sense of something he couldn’t quite describe, awe maybe, wash over him. She lifted her head, looking straight into the magical light.

“But also you could wonder how long has it been standing here?” her brown eyes turned to him again “How many nights it has broken? How many people’s lives had interwoven under its light...”

Her voice trailed again and Teddy didn’t reply. She didn’t seem to expect him to, because with one last longing glance at the lamppost Lucy resumed her pace. And Teddy followed suit.

 

They were almost there, the entrance of Knockturn Alley gaped ahead covered in thick shadow. They passed by Lucy’s building and Teddy at last seemed to realise where they were heading because his whole posture stiffened and a crease appeared on his forehead.

“Lucy, we’re not going into Knockturn Alley, are we?” he asked, stopping in his tracks and fumbling with the pocket of his jacket to retrieve his wand. She stopped before him, placing a hand on his forearm for the second time that evening. She took a step closer.

“Don’t worry, Teddy. I’ve spent more than one night at _Circe’s_.” she spoke in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. Then, remembering his profession, she added “As long as you don’t advertise you’re an Auror, we’ll be fine.”

It didn’t seem to relax him, quite the opposite in fact. His lips were set in a thin line and he eyed her warily. Lucy opened her mouth to say something more, but she snapped it shut immediately. He was a grown wizard, for Merlin’s sake, why should she worry about him? If he didn’t want to come along, it was fine with her.

“Look, with or without you, I’m going there.” she said dismissively and turned her back to him, starting to walk away. She felt a hand grab her upper arm.

“Fine.” he said through clenched teeth and releasing his grip he resumed his position at her side.

Half a minute later they had covered the short distance that divided them from _Circe’s Lair_ , walking thorough the narrow passage between the buildings that loomed above Knockturn Alley. Near _Borgin & Burkes_, they veered to their left. It had been half a year since the last time she had stood in the gloomy alleyway, staring at the black paint peeling from the worn door while she waited for someone to open it. She rapped the door three times, as customary and a few moments later a short balding man wearing a filthy robe let them in.

“Missus Lucy, haven’t seen you in a while” he spoke in his nasal voice, offering her an almost toothless smile. “You bring a friend, I see.”

“I’ve been busy otherwise, Joe.” Lucy replied politely “And yes, this is Ted.” Joe’s small eyes scanned Teddy from head to feet, narrowing slightly for a moment, but dismissing it soon afterwards. Teddy had still not uttered a word and she eyed him warily, starting to doubt her decision to bring him to Circe’s in the first place. After all, the bloke _was_ an Auror, meaning that there was the distinct possibility that someone could recognise him, Metamorphomagus abilities notwithstanding.

Loud music assailed them when they entered the packed pub. There were only a few dimmed torches casting their lazy light on the vault-ceilinged room and Lucy grabbed Teddy’s hand, leading them to the counter, carefully dodging people and magical creatures. Just as she placed her elbow on the counter she almost stepped on a goblin, who eyed her darkly. Lucy flashed the small ugly creature an apologetic smile and it muttered something incoherent in reply. Shrugging she waved at the willowy bartender, who lazily turned his grisly face and limped towards them.

Fifteen minutes later found them standing in a dark corner, not far from the counter, drinking their second round of Goblin Gin. After the initial resistance, Teddy had loosened up and presently seemed to be enjoying himself. She noticed he was tapping a foot in beat with the fast-paced music. On a makeshift stage in the far corner of the pub a quartet of hags played a lively jig. They were hideous to look at, Lucy thought, but Merlin could they play! The music was entrancing, pulling at her most primeval instincts, making her body move on its own accord. Perhaps it was the six Firewhiskeys she had drunk before, perhaps it was the heat, she didn’t know the reason why, but she felt an irresistible urge to let herself go. To let the music carry her away. Her shoulders moved, followed by her head and her hips. From beneath her swaying red hair she watched the ugly creatures play with rapture, almost one with their instruments. Standing in the middle, was a violet-clad hag on the fiddle that thrashed her head about as she danced with her instrument in hand. And Lucy felt her body mimic the creature’s actions. It was liberating. On and on she danced, slowing down only when the song died away.

“You seem to be at home here.” Teddy shouted in her ear when the song ended. Lucy flashed him a smile and shrugged her shoulders. The beats of the next song reverberated in the smoke-filled air.

“One of my exes..” she started then, scrunching her face, added “Scratch that. One of the blokes I used to date...” her brows knitted together for a split second “...Ryan, yeah, that was Ryan.” faintly she noticed Teddy eyeing her oddly, but she continued unfazed “Well, he brought me here two years ago. I literally fell in love with this place.”

 _Circe’s_ was her last haven. Whenever she would feel very lonely it was the place to go. In the dim light of the pub that welcomed everyone and everything, she would lose herself and her worries on the way. Lucy had spent countless nights out dancing with people she never met, drinking with people she had no interest in meeting, and sometimes waking up next to someone who, like herself, only looked for a short-term remedy to loneliness.

The music increased in pace and Lucy found herself once again losing the trail of her thoughts as her body responded to the beat. A large grin painted itself on her lips and she grabbed Teddy’s hand again.

“Dance with me!” she cried out twirling on her spot. He frowned for a split second, but she tugged his arm again and with a shrug he yielded. She watched him move, following her lead at first, then, spinning her on her spot, he took over. She gladly went along, adjusting her motions so they moved in unison. Limbs brushing, but never tangling, her mind shut down as the only important thing became the swaying of her body. She felt her face pull into a large grin and glancing up to see his face she saw that he sure was sporting the same grin. His arm encircled her waist firmly, before pushing her into another spin, and Lucy couldn’t stop herself from noticing how strong his grip was. She felt a flush creep up her neck, but paid no mind to it, too lost in the music and feel of his hands, his body flush close and then apart, then all over again. It was almost as they had stopped being two separate beings as they moved in perfect synchronicity. For endless minutes they kept dancing until, with a grand finale ,the song ended just as she her face was pressed on his chest. She looked up and met his gaze. There was a creasing on his brow and Lucy pushed herself apart from him, smiling uncertainly.

He looked away, taking hold of his glass. Lucy mimicked his actions and downed her drink. She felt it coil in her stomach. Goblin Gin was heavy stuff, Lucy knew, it took practice to get accustomed to its taste and effects. And to the hangovers it gave. She smiled wryly into her now empty tumbler. Unless one took a generous amount of Hangover Potion the morning after, it would feel as if a horde of centaurs ran over one’s bared brain matter.

She parted her eyes from the sticky bottom of her glass and looked sideways at Teddy. He was distracted, looking with narrowed eyes towards a couple of battered looking wizards who stood on the far side of the pub. For a long moment Lucy observed the neat line of his profile, the straight nose and square jaw. A smile ghosted on her lips. He was handsome indeed, she had to admit herself. Not perfect, but overall very appealing. And her cousin’s boyfriend, she reminded herself and scolded, not someone she could go and pursue. She shook her head, letting out a humourless chuckle. Well it was good then she wouldn’t have considered it anyway, she reflected, being that she enjoyed his company too much to spoil it by shagging him. This night had been the first after an immemorially long time, in which Lucy had utterly enjoyed herself. Her smile grew wider.

 

This was qualifying as the uncanniest night-out Teddy had partaken, well, likely ever. He was fairly certain he had brought at least five of the wizards in the pub to the Auror Department for questioning at some point of his career. This was decidedly not the kind of place he would normally find himself in. And yet he was enjoying himself immensely. He glanced to his left. Lucy was finishing her second glass of Goblin Gin with a grimace. The drink made Firewhiskey seem like Pumpkin Juice in comparison, but she didn’t seem overly drunk. He smiled. The redhead witch could certainly hold her liquor. Teddy couldn’t help but compare her to Victoire. Vic would never willingly set foot in a place like this, she would likely deem it too sinister and surely not classy enough. And Vic would never dance with the abandon Lucy had danced with him before minutes before. It had been amazing, to abandon all pretences for a while, losing the grip on oneself and simply become the music. And she had followed him, juxtaposing her motions to his own, adding them, changing them. He watched her, beaming as a smile stretched her pink lips while her body never ceased moving in rhythm with the music. He felt the same odd feeling that had washed over him before, when they had been standing in Diagon Alley. He toyed with his empty glass, watching unblinking her hair bobbing lightly. A tendril fell in her eyes and without thinking he brushed it off with his hand. She glanced up at him beaming even wider.

“Shall I get another round?” he asked her and she gave a hearty nod. His eyes lingered for a moments, then he turned around. Teddy staggered as he pushed his way towards the counter, remembering to keep his head down. In spite of all the liquor he had drunk he still knew all this could turn very ugly if someone recognised him.

Getting drinks proved to be more difficult than he had imagined it. The counter was surrounded by a living wall of wizards in various states of inebriation. Teddy tried several times to squash between them, but it only got him an array of colourful curses. He had almost given up when a derelict looking witch toppled over her stool. Quickly he occupied her vacant spot on the counter, ordering.

What seemed like an eternity later, he had managed to near their spot. And without spilling their drinks in the process, he chuckled to himself. He may have really drunk too much, he thought. His smile froze on his face when he spotted Lucy. She was arguing with a visibly drunken younger wizard who kept trying to coil his arm around her waist. She pushed him away, but the arm sneaked again and more demandingly. He watched Lucy’s face grimace in discomfort and Teddy felt anger bubble within him. He pushed himself more forcefully through the throng of people.

 

“Look mate, I’m not interested, got it?” Lucy said in exasperation and didn’t like the edge her own voice had taken. The bloke tried to pull her closer and Lucy resisted. She considered taking out her wand, but she was aware he could very well have friends nearby. Lucy knew what she had to do was let the bloke indulge and then disappear at the first viable moment, but she couldn’t. Not tonight. She was hardly in the mood for drunken groping and this bloke was not about to ask her for a dance.

The mousy haired wizard leaned closer and she could feel the stench of liquor reach her nose. She cringed. He gave her a feral grin and Lucy wondered where was Teddy. She wriggled in the vice-like grip, but it only seemed to encourage him. He pulled her flush close and ignoring her fists hitting his ribcage, he leaned his head.

“Stop it!” she nearly shouted at him, her hand flying to her back pocket to take her wand. Her fingers nearly curled around the polished wood, when a hand seized her wrist.

“Oh, no you won’t.” he told her slurring on the words. She panicked. _Teddy, where the bloody fuck are you?_ She kept struggling, knowing full well the futility of it. Then an arm appeared out of nowhere, shoving the wizard roughly away.

“Get away!” Teddy spat with a commanding voice. His eyes were almost black and even his hair rippled with shades of darker brown. The bloke sneered and was about to reply something but taking a glance at Teddy he stopped. His jaw hung open for a split second, then he muttered something incoherent and swayed away from them. Lucy was still huffing bewildered and Teddy looked at her with concerned eyes

“Thanks for that.” she told him with a feeble smile. He offered her a glass and she took it gratefully, gulping it down at once. Merlin, that had been close. She grimaced as the Goblin Gin hit her stomach. When she gazed at Teddy again she noticed him looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Teddy, what’s wrong?” she asked him with a tinge of worry in her voice.

She was looking at him with her eyes still slightly wide, expecting an answer. He downed his drink, watching her mimic his actions. His breaths still came out in angry huffs. He pursed his lips and made to place his glass on the grimy shelf behind them. Lucy was still eyeing him warily, no longer dancing.

“Nothing.” he replied at last, then forcing his muscles to relax he flashed her a smile and extended a hand “Let’s dance”

She placed her thin hand into his and it was almost weightless, albeit scorching. The song was once again a fast-paced one and he soon found himself spinning her, pushing her away and pulling her close in beat. Her skin was warm where his fingers touched her and as his vision became fuzzy his mind seemed to be able to focus only on the feel of Lucy in his arms. There was, somewhere in the deep recesses of his drunken mind a voice that feebly spelled words of accusation, but the music was loud and she fit him like the piece of a jigsaw. He pulled her to him once again and instead of twirling her like should have he held her close to him. She looked at him with wide eyes, but when his lips crashed fiercely on hers she responded with eagerness, coiling her hands in his hair, down his back. She was everywhere and he wanted her to be closer, he wanted to feel every inch of her skin on his own. Her mouth was still on his own, hungrily kissing him, when he felt the familiar tugging at his navel as she apparated them .

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover image by me.


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